New Year Resolutions
by Labschiz
Summary: Arty has to write a report on his new year resolutions, but Holly and Foaly decide to edit it a bit. completely random. I'M BAAAACK! AF needs some more hahaness to lighten up all the angst! My pathetic attempt at humor. READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!
1. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

          This Year, the students at St. Bartleby's School for Young Gentlemen were each assigned an essay on their New Year's resolutions, over the holidays…

            Artemis' life was going normally after the mind wipe. But, just to make sure, and because there was nothing else to do, Foaly checked up on the Mud Boy's computers every day. Today, he came upon little Arty's homework files, one in particular: _New Year Resolutions Essay_

            Ever curious, Foaly invited Holly to help him invade Artemis' privacy. They weren't unduly surprised to see what he had written.

_Artemis Fowl the Second_

_December 31, 2003___

_Saint Bartleby's School for Young Gentlemen_

_                                                            New Year's Resolutions_

_            Naturally, a respected businessman, and genius such as myself does not have any New Year resolutions. However, if I did have such resolutions I certainly would not be parading them around in an insecure _school report_ that can be easily accessed by my enemies. Furthermore, simply writing this idiotic essay has taken several precious seconds of my busy schedule, something you certainly would not understand. Thank you for wasting my time._

            Well that just will not do, said Holly. Yes, it certainly will not, replied Foaly. So they went to work on 'improving' Artemis' paper "for the better".

_Artemis Fowl the Second_

_December 31, 2003___

_Saint Bartleby's School for Young Gentlemen_

_                                                            New Year's Resolutions_

_           In entering the New Year, I have prepared a list of 'resolutions' that must be taken into account as soon as possible._

_1. __I must learn to stop using people for personal gain._

_2. __I must learn to stop being an insufferable know-it-all._

_3. __I must stop calling my pants "trousers". They're pants. Do not deny their true name.  Just call them what they are._

_4. __I must start using that cream on the television commercials for these unsightly zits that have invaded my godly face. Now, what was it called? Oh, yes. Oxyclean_

_5. __I must go solo in my singing career. Singing "I'm Too Sexy for My Shirt" into a hairbrush with only Juliet's old stuffed animals that I…borrowed is just not as satisfying as it used to be. (Frank Sinatra aint got nothing on me!)_

_6. __I must learn how to hit those high notes. My good friend, Simon, at American Idol says my voice is like a choir of angels all on its own, but I just don't know. Well, I'm not trying to be modest or anything but…you know, it's like I have to reach like my own goal, before I like listen to critics, you know?_

_7. __I must get over this embarrassing addiction of fortune cookies. I've kept it a secret for too long…and ::sniffle:: I don't think I can take it anymore! Why, just the other day, I tackled the Chinese Food delivery boy because he forgot those delicious, crunchy, heavenly, goodness—I WANT MY COOKIES!!!!!!!_

_8. __I must release my latest invention before my competitors. My ingenious device will revolutionize toilet cleaning for decades to come._

_9. __I must, MUST get my hands on tickets to a B2K concert. OH MY GOSH!!!!! J BUD IS SOOOO_ CUTE!!!THOSE BOYS HAVE GOT THE STUFF!!!!!__

_10. __I must change my name. Something that my mother cannot twist into some sick, embarrassing nickname like…Arty. Uck! Maybe something like…Percival or Tiffany. Or maybe I should just come up with a nickname of my own, a secondary name that most will know me by, like Jennifer Lopez. From now on, I shall now be known as…A-Fo! _

Naturally, Foaly sent this report to Artemis' literature professor, who read it out loud to the students, who made copies and posted it on the school newsletter. Artemis attempted to sue. 

**A/N: Hope u liked it! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!**

**(READ MY OTHER FIC)**


	2. HAPPY OLD YEAR!

**A/N: I'M BACK!!!! For some strange reason, I felt a sudden urge to continue this fic.  It's longer.  Enjoy!**

            Several days after the 'New Years' Resolution' incident, Commander Root discovered Foaly and Holly's little prank.  After deafeningly reprimanding them for endangering their civilization and the usual, Root had a delightful idea.  When he alerted the other two fairies of his sudden cerebral achievement, they laughed mockingly for a whole two minutes.  They finally quieted enough for him to actually tell them what his idea was.  As soon as they heard, Foaly got to work on hacking into the files of Dr. Po's computer at Saint Bartleby's School for Young Gentlemen.

            The doctor still had unopened mail, Foaly pointed out.  With impish glee the three noticed it was sent by AurumHunter02@FowlEnterprises.com.  Only a brain dead goblin wouldn't know who that address belonged to.  Foaly opened message.

            Obviously Dr. Po had asked his young patient to construct a journal in hopes of reaching a breakthrough in his psychological analysis.

_From: _AurumHunter02@FowlEnterprises.com

_To: _needanewjob@CheapPsychology.com

_Doctor, I would first like to say that I would never even consider writing anything for you if not for my parents' insistence.  However, if a journal will so satisfy your curiosity that I must take valuable time out of my days to write it, then I am forced to humor an incompetent fool who gets paid far more than his services are worth. _

**_ -_****_January 11, 2004_****_  Sunday_**__

_            I have just been to your mind-numbing therapy session for an excruciating hour.  My opinions of this day have already been expressed, and I am quite certain you would not want me to repeat them._

**_-_****_January 12, 2004_****_  Monday_****__**

_            My lawsuit against Saint Bartleby's has been declared baseless.  You and the dean will be happy to know that I have decided suing the school is not a task worthy of pursuing. _

**_-_****_January 13, 2004_****_  Tuesday_****__**

_            I have just wasted another day in these dull, pointless classes that you claim are supposed to educate me._

**_-_****_January 14, 2004_****_  Wednesday_****__**

_            I do not feel like writing anything today._

**_- _****_January 15, 2004_****_  Thursday_****__**

_            See previous entry._

**_-_****_January 16, 2004_****_  Friday_****__**

_            As you have probably heard, my roommates have had a little accident.  The two boys made the mistake of bothering me this morning while I was working on a...project by throwing a football into my quarters.  Somehow, when they got back from their classes all their possessions were missing.  It was later realized that their things now belong to several people from different counties in __Ireland__, exactly how many people is still uncertain.  Apparently, the boys sold these items via the Internet and sent them before the day was done.  But for some reason, I have been held responsible for this incident.  Unfortunately, no proof has been found of my connection with my roommates' missing possessions.  I do hope they find a way to purchase them back._

**_-_****_January 17, 2004_****_  Saturday_****__**

_            I am still under suspicion, but there is still no solid evidence.  I have spent the day with my bodyguard, __Butler__.  Further details of today's events are private._

_There are the journal entrees for this week.  Did that please you?  I could not care less if it caused you lasting trauma, but I would prefer it if I never have to write a journal for you again.  Thank you._

_Artemis Fowl, the Second_

            The fairies shared a mutual glance that could be translated as "oh, please".  But the more arrogant the prey, the more amusing the prank.  Giggling devilishly, they deleted that message and began to write up a new journal for everyone's favorite Mud Boy.

_Hello, Doctor __Po__.  Here it is, my journal.  Honestly, I had never thought of writing a journal before you made the suggestion.  I had always entrusted my deepest, darkest secrets to Mr. Fishie, my—I mean _Juliet's_ stuffed animal.  As you well know, a growing boy like myself should have something more reliable to confide in than a fish made of cotton, even though Mr. Fishie usually has great advice and doesn't talk to anyone else but me.  I heartily feel that this journal will be a step forward in my much needed psychological therapy and in ridding myself of certain fiendish tendencies.  _

****

**_-_****_January 11, 2004_****_  Sunday_**__

_            After our delightful session, I went home.  Once at home it was business as usual.  Mother and Father fussed over me and forced me to endure two point six hours of parental cooing.  When I told them not to call me 'Arty' they merely laughed and began calling me "Artykins" instead.  I shudder to think how they could butcher my new name, A-Fo.  If they somehow manage to make _that_ sound foolish, then what will my peeps call me?  __Butler__ decided that we did not spend enough "quality time" together and suggested training me in the art of self-defense.  I actually tried that for a few minutes before I remembered that I am allergic to physical violence _as well_ as sunlight.  So I made an even better suggestion, which __Butler__ agreed to very enthusiastically.  That day he taught me the graceful art of hop scotch. One may think of this as an undignified activity for a bodyguard, but what people must realize is that hop scotch is a complicated sport that requires much training (sometimes including staplers, tear gas, and a squid) and is almost being considered as close to an Olympic sport in some very, very small nations.  As a matter of fact, __Butler__ is the owner of several shiny silver spray painted trophies from his professional hop schotching days.  I am very proud to be his apprentice.  Juliet, however, laughed hysterically after watching us practice jumping in the difficult pattern of 1, 2, 3, 1.  She did not stop laughing for an incredibly long time and started recording us on a camcorder.  I wonder why...               _

**_-_****_January 12, 2004_****_  Monday_****__**

_            I returned to Saint Bartleby's today.  I was feeling especially cheerful today and only insulted 21 people on my way to class.  A new record!  Do you know why I am so happy?  Guess!  Well?  WHAT IS IT?!  I CAN"T TAKE THE SUSPENSE!!!  Oh, wait...I remember now.  Last night, as I was cruising the streets of __Dublin__ on my trusty purple scooter, and I felt like buying some ice cream.  When I drank my fifty-seventh cone, a boy walked up to me.  We talked for a bit and I told him my name.  Then he asked me to have dinner with him tonight!  Of course I responded in the way any normal guy would in that situation.  I giggled and accepted the invitation.  I am so happy!  Now I know what it is like to have a friend.  Oh, I must go now.  It is time for me to meet with Roger.  I will tell you all about it upon my return tonight._

_            I have just had the most horrid experience of my insignificant life!  Do you know what happened tonight?  Of course you don't, you moronic piece of electronics!  It turns out that Roger was asking me out on a date!  HE THOUGHT I WAS A GIRL!!!!  This is so degrading.  I called Juliet when I got back and I told her how Roger drove away at 80mph when he discovered my gender.  She comforted me and said that he only asked me out because he could tell I was beautiful on the inside, and if not, he was just a cheap floozy who only dated me for my money.  I figure she is right.  _

**_-_****_January 13, 2004_****_  Tuesday_****__**

_            Today was relatively boring.  I skipped my classes and spent the entire day in my dorm.  I eventually grew tired of reading _Chicken Soup for the Felon's Soul_, so I took my mother's advice and tried some normal activities.  First, I watched television.  I found it senseless and irritating, but in an oddly entertaining way.  After a few hours my eyes itched and my vocabulary got a little minused, so I tried my hand at video games.  Personally, I found the game_ Super Mario_ very confusing and those evil little mushrooms will haunt me for years to come.  I have mastered the game of _Tetris _after only four hours, and I found _Grand Theft Auto_ particularly entertaining.  When I am old enough to get a driver's license, I can practice the drive-by techniques I've learned!  After I lost a Pokemon battle, I threw the controller at the television and it broke, leaving me bored once again.  _

_            It truly is a curse to be a genius.  No matter how many things I try, I always master it in the end, being the superior, ultra-perfect life form that I am.  But I must admit that there is one thing that even _my _magnificent mind cannot comprehend, and that is an interactive game called _Bop It_.  This game is the most complicated and frustrating contraption that has ever been graced by my presence.  The commands are difficult and confusing: "bop it, twist it, pull it, flick it, twist it, twist it, pull it"—AAARGHH!!  But I vow that one day I will learn the secret to the _Bop It_, oh yes, and I will become the greatest _Bop It_ master in ALL OF __ALBANIA__!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!                  _

**_-_****_January 14, 2004_****_  Wednesday_****__**

_            I just got back from a three hour group therapy session.  My parents wished for me to seek professional help for my fortune cookie addiction.  At the session, everyone formed a friendship circle and one by one we talked about our addictions.  Talking really does help.  I was quite surprised that I was the only one with an obsession for dough-made products.  Anyway, at first I was hesitant and I even snapped at the cheese pizza addict.  But I warmed at their comforting words and an origami addict even gave me a daisy.  So I told them of how it all started on that fateful day.  I was four and my parents took me to eat at a Chinese buffet.  Everything was going fine until our waitress gave me my very first fortune cookie.  I was so innocent, so pure and I ate it up with childish excitement.  It was the most wonderful thing I had ever experienced!  It was so wonderful that I wet my pants.  Ignoring the stares of the people around me, I ate another, then another, and another.  Soon I stopped eating them for the fortune inside.  Actually, I became impatient and started eating both the fortune and the cookie.  I would go to any means just to get my cookies—my precious, lovely cookies.  I recall one incident when I broke into a fortune cookie factory and stole every cookie they had.  __Butler__ was very concerned when I first told him my plan.  Now, I am starting to improve.  I have been off the cookie for almost an entire day now. I even emptied my secret stash inside my laptop.  And I owe it all to my friends at the Happy Healers Society.  I even shed a few tears._

**_-_****_January 15, 2004_****_  Thursday_****__**

_            I think I may be pregnant.  You're shocked, I know.  I was, too, at first, but it makes sense.  As of late, I have been experiencing nausea and stomach cramps, which have nothing to do with the thousand-something fortune cookies I ate after dinner last night.  I also notice that I have put on some pounds, ruining my perfect figure.  The only conclusion is that there is going to be an Artemis Fowl the Third in the near future.  However, I am still unsure on the name.  Perhaps something like Garfunkle or Trixie would be more suitable for my successor...  This is rather exciting!  I must be one of a very chosen few boys who get to bear a child.  I remember someone told me the government chooses who gets to be pregnant and then sends their alien slaves to implant the __Chosen__ One with a fetus overnight.  I am very thankful for this blessing and I can feel the young life stirring in my belly right now.  It's either that or gas.         _

**_-_****_January 16, 2004_****_  Friday_****__**

_            Today is rehearsal day in preparation for my singing career.  After classes, I went to the boys' room, clad in my special singing costume (a shiny kiwi leotard, frilly apron, and plumed orange hat) and sang at the top of my lungs in front of the mirror.  I was practicing my routine when people came out of the stalls and shouted colorful words at me.  I, of course, invited them to be my background dancers.  Quite unexpectedly, they bolted out of the room, shouting something about "freaks" and "banshees".  Well I must go now, much rehearsing to do!  Now where is my hairbrush...  _

**_-_****_January 17, 2004_****_  Saturday_****__**

_            This morning I took a plane to __Hollywood__ to get my singing career started.  Simon booked a show for me to perform in on MTV.  You should have seen me!  My music is a tasteful mix of pop, R&B, disco, country, techno, yodeling, and rap.  My dance routine went from the can can, to a tap dance, to a graceful version of the Electric Slide, and ended with the Macarena.  I started my medley with "Macho Man", slowed down to the ballad "Oops, I Did it Again", and went to my favorite "I'm Too Sexy".  I received a standing ovation from my audience at the special deaf and blind people's performance.  I think I will have to keep up with the times.  But no worry, I am Artemis Fowl; I am always a step ahead.  I have already composed a rap song for my modern audience:_

Yo, yo, gimme a beat, yo,

Yeah, yeah, herrre I come with your hip joint

No, not the bone, but the sound as sharp as a pencil point,

Imma big pimper

Who loves stickers

Yo, A-Fo commin at ya from all sides

With my phat rhymes,

You know I got all that bling-bling

And I also have a diamond ring

Yeah, dis is yo favorite boy genius comin at ya 

Now Imma be yo favorite singa

Yo, yo, representing my ghetto home in the Emerald Isle,

Yeah, yeah, yeah, dudes, fo shizzle, something that rhymes with Isle.

I'm so hot, you gotta wear shades,

So buy my album or you-er-will get bad grades!

Yeah!  Holler back here, youngsters!

_Those were my journal entrees for this week. I am eagerly awaiting our next session!_

_A-Fo, or A-Fizzle, or Little Art Master F_

            When Dr. Po found this message at their next meeting, he sensed a regression and the possibility of schizophrenia.  Before Artemis could stop him, Po sent it to all his fellow psychologists, who posted it on their worldwide psychological and sociological articles on the Internet or in published works.  It was also added to Artemis II's biography.  Artemis himself bumped up security and put up several firewalls to protect his computer.

**A/N:  I know, it was long and not as good as the first.  I wouldn't have continued it, but I had a sudden spurt of randomness as I was reading my reviews.  THANK YOU SOOOOOO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS!!! LUV YOU ALL! And special thanks to the people who gave suggestions and my ideas for this chappie: HappyNutcase, Spasmodic dust bunny, Tie Kerl.  I wish I could respond to all of them.  Sorry, but I probably won't write any more for this one.  BUT, I will be writing more humor...eventually.  Thankies so SO much for your suggestions and comments, hope I made you laugh!**

**PLEEEZ REVIEW! **

**(AND PLZ READ MY ONE OTHER FIC! PWETTY PWEASE?!)**

**INSANITY IS A GIFT, NOT AN ART!!!**


End file.
